<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Lasting by wednesday</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690091">Lasting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday'>wednesday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:20:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt comes upon someone he was sure had long since left Touissant. He's determined to figure out why Dettlaff hasn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Heat Fic Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lasting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitdragon/gifts">hobbitdragon</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
The leshen’s trail led straight into the rocks, or what looked like rocks, but was instead a magical barrier. Geralt didn’t even have to find a way to take it down. The barrier was mostly illusion and didn’t stop him when he walked through it.
</p><p>
The cave sloped down and soon opened into a wide cavern, bright enough that Geralt was glad he hadn’t yet used the Cat potion. The ground was overgrown with roots and all manner of flowers, more than a few of them poisonous. It looked almost like a forest glade, peaceful but for the strange magical quality to the light and, as Geralt walked further, the sound of countless old bones snapping and crumbling under his boots.
</p><p>
Sword drawn, he stopped and listened carefully for any sign of the leshen. He would have preferred to fight it outside its lair, especially if it was strong enough to layer this much magic over the place. Setting it on fire would have been more convenient out in the open, too. At least he knew what he was facing – the leshen had left unmistakable evidence all around the road where it had been killing.
</p><p>
Geralt spun towards a low rumbling sound and–– He was proven wrong about knowing what to expect.
</p><p>
“Thought I told you to leave Toussaint.”
</p><p>
“It was not my intention to stay,” Dettlaff said and with a loud creak tore off the head of the freshly killed leshen. Looked like beheading it with one’s bare hands was just as effective as setting it on fire.
</p><p>
“Hmm.”
</p><p>
“I spent too much time laying false trails. This place is very far from any humans, witcher.” Dettlaff stepped away from the dead leshen and towards Geralt. He only took a few steps before he seemed to think better of it and stopped, keeping a reasonable distance between them. Geralt wasn’t very likely to attack him, or win if he did attack, but Dettlaff looked like he didn’t want to take that chance. It was both flattering and suspicious, and Geralt wasn’t easily susceptible to flattery, so it put him instantly on guard.
</p><p>
“Not far enough.”
</p><p>
In truth the place was decently remote and well hidden that no unlucky travelers would happen upon it anytime soon. But Geralt would have preferred to not have to deal with this anytime soon as well. Dettlaff looked well, much better than any other time Geralt had seen him, so spending time in solitude and beheading some monsters every now and then was apparently doing wonders for his constitution. Regis would be pleased to hear it.
</p><p>
“Perhaps so, but I cannot leave, not yet.”
</p><p>
Geralt didn’t want to start an argument on how far was far enough, or how soon Dettlaff should reach that distance, so he cast his mind to a way to change the subject without conceding.
</p><p>
“Regis has been looking for you.”
</p><p>
That seemed to finally break Dettlaff’s cautious calm. His expression changed rapidly between different shades of startled panic, and <em>that</em> made Geralt start paying more attention. What possible reason could Dettlaff have to avoid Regis? His friend that had argued for his innocence and good nature until the end.
</p><p>
“He– no, I ask only this of you, do not tell him where I am. Do not.”
</p><p>
Geralt had some idea now who those false trails had been for, even if the why still eluded him. And Dettlaff’s pleading tone...
</p><p>
“You could easily be gone by the time I tell anyone. If Regis hasn’t found you yet...” Geralt said and watched Dettlaff carefully. He didn’t look so much defeated as agitated. So he couldn’t leave. Couldn’t, not wouldn’t.
</p><p>
Geralt knew there was very little that could physically hold a vampire, so Dettlaff must have been held in some nonphysical way.
</p><p>
“The magical barrier. It wasn’t strong enough to keep me out. Nor the leshen.” Geralt had seen enough illusions, barriers and other magics long forgotten by the ones they’d been cast by, that a barrier guarding some out of the way cave hadn’t seemed strange. Maybe some mage’s attempt at protecting his sleep, maybe just someone practicing their magic.
</p><p>
“It is not made to keep anyone out,” Dettlaff said, and Geralt felt his blood run cold. His amulet had barely twitched when he’d walked through it. He glanced back at the entrance; a demeritium bomb should be enough to dispel it.
</p><p>
“You will be able to leave, witcher. You should do so, the sooner the better.”
</p><p>
Geralt spent a moment incredulous that Dettlaff of all people was trying to assuage his concern. And then he started wondering how Dettlaff could know that. What kind of magic could hold a higher vampire, but would let others through? It hadn’t been cast by Dettlaff, clearly, and who else would want to trap a vampire?
</p><p>
“You knew it was there, what it’s purpose was. You trapped yourself here intentionally. Why?” After everything Geralt hadn’t expected Dettlaff to willingly lock himself in a cave for an eternity. And not a very nice cave at that. Other than the magical light, no one had made any effort to make it livable. It looked like any other leshen’s lair Geralt had seen.
</p><p>
He looked around again and, oh, there it was – one of the walls had writing on it. A symbol Geralt had seen before in Toussaint and some vampire signs underneath it, written in what looked like blood. Most of them were very old, but there was one that must have been Dettlaff’s work.
</p><p>
Dettlaff noticed what Geralt was looking at and it seemed to agitate him even more. Why he expected Geralt to have any idea what those marks meant, Geralt had no idea.
</p><p>
“Leave, Geralt.” Finally Dettlaff stepped closer, though his attempt at menacing was thwarted by both Geralt being very hard to intimidate, and Dettlaff’s own state. The closer he got, the more obvious it became he wasn’t as well as Geralt had first thought – he looked to be on edge, hands clenched, eyes getting more red by the moment. He had, if such a thing was even possible, drops of sweat on his brow.
</p><p>
“This place looks nothing like the cage in Tesham Mutna. Why is the barrier keeping you here?”
</p><p>
“You must leave,” Dettlaff growled.
</p><p>
“Don’t think I can do that,” Geralt said. Something was wrong here, and knowing how ‘something wrong’ had worked out before when Dettlaff was involved, Geralt had to get answers. Anything that would explain this.
</p><p>
Dettlaff wasn’t in the mood to give those answers, it seemed, and Geralt had no way to make him talk. As Geralt was starting to consider really finding some way to call Regis back to Toussaint and make him sort this out instead, Dettlaff suddenly leaped across the remaining distance between them. They tumbled to the ground and before Geralt could put his silver sword between them, Dettlaff took hold of his wrists and held his hands still.
</p><p>
What stopped Geralt from struggling was that it was a pathetic attempt of an attack even for a human, never mind a vampire that had only minutes earlier easily torn apart a leshen. Even more confusing was the fact Dettlaff didn’t do anything else to follow it up. The moment they were down, Dettlaff seemed determined to <em>melt</em> into Geralt. He pressed close in a way that felt like the closest of embraces, only with their hands still above their heads.
</p><p>
“What–” Geralt was very sure he had no idea what was going on. He tested the hold Dettlaff had on his hands, and Dettlaff let go and instead wrapped his arms around Geralt and then, to make it even more confusing, pressed his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck and sighed contentedly.
</p><p>
For a moment or two Geralt tensed expecting to be bitten, but when nothing of the kind followed, he tried to think of anything he could possibly do in this situation. In the end he just cautiously put his hands on Dettlaff’s shoulders.
</p><p>
It seemed to encourage Dettlaff to try to get even closer, though Geralt was sure there wasn’t any closer to get. The movement did make one part of Dettlaff’s strange condition very obvious to Geralt, when that part was pressed against his thigh. If anyone were to ask, Geralt would swear the way he raised his thigh just then was an accident and not at all sudden intense interest. And that very accidental movement startled an unmistakable moan out of Dettlaff and made his hips jolt just as unmistakably.
</p><p>
“Is this some kind of heat?” It sounded mad when said out loud, but Dettlaff was nuzzling Geralt’s neck and all but humping his leg.
</p><p>
“It’s not a heat!” Dettlaff instantly and vehemently denied while not even a little inconspicuously trying to grind against Geralt’s thigh.
</p><p>
“Oh, it definitely is. Vampire heat,” Geralt said as if everything suddenly made sense. It made no sense at all. “Didn’t know that was a thing.” But it very obviously was, and Geralt felt a moment of indecision. He could leave. He had his answer, finally, and it seemed to be something that wouldn’t lead to some disaster.
</p><p>
Or he could stay. Make <em>sure</em> it didn’t lead to some disaster. Personally.
</p><p>
Dettlaff very clearly didn’t want him to leave, not anymore. And Geralt – Geralt had expected a fight today, and maybe this would make a good alternative, now that there wasn’t anything to fight here.
</p><p>
Fuck, he knew he would be staying.
</p><p>
When it became clear Dettlaff was far too distracted to do more than the awkward tangle they were currently in, Geralt rolled them both over and straddled Dettlaff’s thighs.
</p><p>
Dettlaff looked almost feverish already. He didn’t protest the change in position, only put his hands on Geralt’s hips. After a moment of consideration Geralt started unlacing Dettlaff’s pants. Dettlaff’s grip turned bruising then. It sparked something more than just interest in Geralt, an answering lust that he tried not to think about.
</p><p>
With pants undone it was even more obvious how very affected Dettlaff was – his cock was hard and... not quite as Geralt had expected it to look, though he didn’t think Dettlaff was in a mood for a lesson in monster anatomy. So instead Geralt took him in hand and started stroking. That he seemed to be very in the mood for – he groaned and tried to thrust into Geralt’s hand, and when that didn’t work, groaned again. He could have bucked Geralt off, probably, but he seemed very willing to let Geralt set the pace. So Geralt touched him as he would have touched himself, and watched how human Dettlaff’s face looked when being pleasured. That only lasted until Dettlaff’s lips parted in a silent moan and his sharp fangs became very obvious.
</p><p>
Then he looked decidedly nonhuman, but Geralt still found the sight enchanting. He sped up his strokes and couldn’t stop the way his own breath sped up as Dettlaff got closer to finishing. He had more control than a vampire in heat, so he didn’t do it, but he did want to grind down and relieve some of the pressure.
</p><p>
It didn’t take long before Dettlaff tensed and came all over Geralt’s hand and his own clothes.
</p><p>
“So, how often–” was all Geralt managed to say before Dettlaff interrupted by rolling them until he was once again on top.
</p><p>
“Not often,” Dettlaff answered, above Geralt and leaning down. He probably guessed Geralt’s question correctly, even if ‘not often’ could mean something very different for a vampire than it did for humans. “But it does last for some time,” he added, and that sounded both ominous and promising. He followed it up by licking a stripe up the side of Geralt’s neck.
</p><p>
Geralt gasped, threw his head back and clutched at Dettlaff’s shoulders. Dettlaff, it turned out, was just as determined to get Geralt off as Geralt was desperate to come and–– Fuck, Geralt was not leaving anytime soon. Had to make very sure Dettlaff wasn't a danger. 
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>